Dating Texas E-Book

Michelle MacQueen

• Herausgeber: Twin Rivers Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

How does the future NHL goaltender fall for his tech nerd roommate? 
The truth is, he decided not to fight it. 
Killian “Killer” James doesn’t fit into the elite world of Defiance Academy. There on a hockey scholarship, his Texas ranch hand ways are foreign to his wealthy classmates. 
And then there’s Diego, the kid who never looks up from the computer screen in their shared dorm room, the one whose genius is intimidating. 
Boys like them aren’t supposed to be friends, they aren’t supposed to share secret smiles or distract each other from the goals that have gotten them this far. 
So that question about the jock and the nerd… maybe distractions aren’t such a bad thing. Maybe it’s time for Killian to step out of his own lonely world and join Diego in his.

Go all in with Killian and Diego in this opposites attract sweet romance about an adorable geek and his broody and intense hockey star roommate. 

Dating Texas is a standalone, clean MM novel in the complete Dating Him Series perfect for fans Love Simon, and What if it’s Us. (HEA guaranteed)

Leseprobe

2019 Michelle MacQueen and Ann Maree Craven

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons is entirely coincidental.

This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Printed in the United States of America

Cover by Daqri Bernardo at Covers by Combs.

Editing by Kelly Hartigan at Xterraweb

Contents

1. Killian

2. Diego

3. Killian

4. Diego

5. Killian

6. Diego

7. Killian

8. Diego

9. Killian

10. Diego

11. Killian

12. Diego

13. Killian

14. Diego

15. Killian

16. Diego

17. Killian

18. Diego

19. Killian

20. Diego

Epilogue

What’s Next?

Wylder and the Secret Rockstar

About Ann Maree

About Michelle

1

Killian

There was only one thing Killian “Killer” James wanted in his life, only one plan. Hockey. More specifically, stopping the next puck. That was as far as he let himself look into the future. Each puck coming for the enigmatic goaltender represented a new chance to be great, a new path toward his dreams.

He slid back closer to the crossbar, squaring his body up with the opposing shooter streaking through the neutral zone. His winger raced to catch up with him, but Killian saw how it would all play out. With the defense stuck chasing the play, it was only him and the centerman.

It happened in slow motion. The shooter drew his stick back, telegraphing his play, and Killian slowed his breathing. The sounds of the crowd no longer reached him as he tracked the puck. It flew toward the upper corner of the net, a perfect shot.

Killian barely moved as he stuck his glove out, plucking the puck out of the air. The impact reverberated up his arm, and the silence in his mind shattered, allowing in the excited chants from the stands.

“Killer, Killer” wound around the arena, but he didn’t acknowledge them.

“Nice save.” Kenny Montgomery slapped him on the back.

Killian only grunted at his teammate. Defiance Academy had the best high school hockey team in the Midwest, but something felt off that night. The forwards bungled passes. The defensemen missed hits. It was the last game before winter break, and their minds were already on the three weeks off.

Kenny lined up to take the face-off, but the puck only glanced off his stick before careening toward the far corner.

Guys from both teams scraped along the boards, trying to push the puck free. It popped out of the melee, coming right to the stick of a defenseman standing near the open corner of the net.

Killian dropped his leg out, sliding into the splits as he shifted from post to post, taking away the shooter’s easy angle. The puck hit Killian’s leg before the opposing shooter tried to stuff in the rebound. Killian whirled around as three opposing players jammed the net.

He didn’t know how many saves he made in a matter of seconds, but by the time he managed to cover the puck, his name once again drifted toward the domed ceiling.

Lifting his eyes, he took note of the time. Four minutes left. A tie game. If his teammates couldn’t score, Killian could at least give them the tie.

After winning the face-off, Kenny took off down the ice, only to have his shot blocked by the opposing goaltender who steered his rebound to his own man. All ten skaters bore down on Killian. He made stop after stop and didn’t see it coming.

The hit.

As he lifted his blocker, a big body slammed into him, and the two collided with the goalpost, knocking the wind from Killian. A sharp pain speared through his shoulder, and he dropped to the ice as a whistle rang in his ears.

“Killer?” Kenny bent over him. “You okay, man?”

Killian looked back at the dislodged net. He didn’t know who’d hit him, but the douchebag just skated away.

“Yeah.” He grunted, trying to push away the pain. “I’m fine.” As he tried to push himself up, he gritted his teeth and fell back, agony spreading down his arm.

The trainer walked out onto the ice as every eye fell to Killian. Along with Kenny, he helped him to his feet. The crowd roared their approval.

“I can finish the game.” Killian met the trainer’s eye.

Coach Ryan joined them. “Where are you hurt?”

“Nowhere, I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me, James. We all saw the hit you just took.”

Killian clenched his jaw, refusing to tell his coach about the pain snaking along his shoulder. He was a hockey player; he’d played with worse. The team needed him. He glanced at the scoreboard. Two minutes. He could play through any kind of pain for two minutes.

“Let me play.”

Kenny gave him a nod of respect, but Coach didn’t look nearly as impressed. “No. If you’re hurt, you could make it worse. Go to the locker room. We’ll put Matthews in net.”

Matthews sucked, but Killian wasn’t about to say that out loud. The truth was, no one who made the Defiance Academy team sucked, but it had been Killian leading them in net for the last two years. He couldn’t stand the thought of someone else coming in now.

Coach Ryan pointed to the tunnel. “Go.”

Anger burned through Killian, fueling each step as he left the ice. He didn’t bother grabbing his skate guards before storming down the tunnel and into the locker room. Ripping his mask off, he hurled it at the concrete wall, wincing at the pain the movement caused.

He could have stayed in the game. His breath rasped in his throat, and his chest heaved. No one would ever claim Killian James was a calm guy when it came to hockey. To him, the game was life. He’d make it pro no matter what kind of pain he had to play through.

There was no way he’d return to Texas after high school when there was no future for him there. Hockey was his only way to a different kind of life.

Sitting in his stall, he started unlacing his skates and pulled them off just as the noise reached him from the hall. Moments later, the team burst into the locker room. They didn’t speak, but their sullen body language said it all.

Defiance Academy had lost. Killian tried not to blame the backup goalie, but he couldn’t help thinking if he was in net, they’d at least have tied the game.

Yeah, he was cocky but deservedly so.

The truth was, Killian shouldn’t have even been there right then. He should have been playing for Team USA in World Juniors, but he’d been passed over for that just like everything else in his life.

Never quite good enough.

Coach entered the room, his eyes scanning the faces surrounding him. “You boys played well.”

“We lost.” Kenny hung his head. “And if it hadn’t been for Killer, we’d have lost by a lot more than we did.”

Coach Ryan sighed. “Hit the showers, boys. You all leave for winter break soon. We will rest up and come back from the holodays with fresh memories. This loss is now in the past.”

Killian closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. Coach Ryan’s favorite speeches revolved around having short memories, but you couldn’t erase a loss.

When he opened his eyes again, Coach stood in front of him. “How are you feeling?”

“I told you I was fine.” Killian tried to stand, but Coach put a hand up to stop him. “Take a shower, and then one of the trainers will drive you to the hospital.”

“Coach…”

“Nonnegotiable, James. I saw how your shoulder hit the post, and I see how you’re holding your arm now. I want you to get an X-ray and an MRI. If it’s just me being an overprotective coach and nothing is wrong, at least we’ll know that. But I’ve seen guys struggle to come back from injuries, and I will not have the best goalie I have ever coached lose his bright hockey future because he was too stubborn.”

“Fine.” Killian bit back the words he wanted to say. Coach didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of Killian’s anger. “I’ll go.”

By the time Killian returned to campus, the halls were eerily silent. Defiance Academy had strict rules about things like curfew. All students had to be in their rooms by ten at night. They said it was for safety reasons. The academy was the kind of rich-kid school Killian never thought he’d set foot in. Children of politicians, CEOs, and celebrities attended because their parents were assured certain protections from the media.

And there was Killian James, poor nobody from San Antonio, Texas. The day they’d sent him a scholarship offer to play hockey changed his life. He went from ranch hand and casual hockey goalie to NHL hopeful within a few years’ time.

His rise had caught the attention of the Hockey News—they even wrote an article about him—but Killian never saw why they felt the need to talk about his humble upbringing. He might not have had much, but he had the best mom in the world.

A mom who’d called three times since seeing the game streamed online. She never missed one.

Killian stared down at his vibrating phone as he leaned against the wall next to his door. Bringing the phone to his ear, he sighed. “Hey, Ma.”

“Killian James! What is the matter with you, boy? I have to see my son get the sense knocked out of him and then wait hours for him to call his dear old ma to say he’s alive.”

A smile curved his lips. Even in his exhausted state, hearing his mom’s thick Southern voice made him wish she was there. “It’s nothing. I promise. They checked me out for a shoulder tear, but it’s just a sprain.”

The breath whooshed out of her. “You’re going to drive me to my grave, you know that?”

“I love you too, Ma.”

“Your sisters want to say hi to you. It’s late, and I tried to make them sleep, but they worry just as much as I do.”

He smiled at that. Being away from home was hard, and Defiance Academy wasn’t exactly the most welcoming place for scholarship kids.

“You’re a jerk.” That was Zoey, Killian’s thirteen-year-old—and every bit the age—sister.

“Hey, Zoe. Miss you too.”

“If you missed me, you wouldn’t make us think… He—” Her yell was cut off when another voice came on.

“Sorry, Zoe. Killy just wants to talk to me.”

He laughed at six-year-old Rory’s words. Even on such a crap night, his sisters could always make him feel better.

“Are you coming home for Christmas, Killian?”

He hated the words he had to say and hated even more that his mom hadn’t told Rory yet. “Rory… You’re going to have a great Christmas, but I won’t be there.”

She started crying. “Why not?”

How did he tell a six-year-old their mom couldn’t afford to fly him home for both winter and summer breaks so he had to choose? “I’m going to be home in the summertime.”

“But, Killian, Baby Girl needs you.” He smiled at that. Baby Girl was her name for the horse he’d taught her to ride. They didn’t own her, and her real name was Jasmine, but she belonged to the ranch their mom worked at. Their mom was a cook and housekeeper. During the summer, Killian mucked stalls and exercised horses.

“You’ll just have to explain it to her, Ror. Tell Baby Girl I love her and I wish I could be there with her, but sometimes, we don’t get what we want.”

Rory’s soft sobs came through the phone for a moment before another voice rang in his ears. “I’m so sorry, Killian.” His mom had always felt guilty for not being able to provide more for her kids after their dad left them. Killian didn’t blame her though. She did the best she could. The ache in his shoulder intensified, and all he wanted was go to sleep and forget this day ever happened.

“It’s okay. I’ve got to get some rest.”

“Okay, I love you, honey.”

He hesitated for a moment longer before hanging up. It was the second year in a row he’d miss being with his family for the holidays, and it didn’t get easier. No matter how busy he was, or how focused, he couldn’t stop missing them. On his tough days, he sometimes wished he could just go home and live a simple life.

But then he’d put on his hockey pads and remember he was never meant for simple.

Pushing into his room, he stopped when he caught sight of his roommate, Diego, hunched over his keyboard. Diego didn’t look up from his massive computer screen as Killian dumped his hockey bag near the foot of his bed.

Taking an ice pack out of their shared freezer, he placed it under his shirt over the compression bandage and sighed as the cold seeped into his skin.

Still, Diego didn’t notice him. His eyes darted back and forth across the screen. Code appeared as he typed it, but it wasn’t like Killian understood any of it.

After living with Diego all semester, the only thing Killian really knew about him was that he loved his computer more than people and was the son of some wealthy tech genius.

Pushing his glasses up into his dark hair, Diego rubbed his eyes and looked up, noticing Killian for the first time. His gaze darted from the ice pack to Killian’s face, but he didn’t ask if he was okay. That would have required him to speak.

The truth was, Killian was pretty sure he scared Diego. He was a big Texan hockey player at a school that worshiped hockey. When they’d first met, it amused him. But then Diego never snapped out of his wide-eyed fascination, and it started annoying Killian to the point he avoided his room.

After staring at each other for a moment longer, Killian lay down on his bed and turned away from Diego. “Don’t type on your computer all night. I need some sleep.”

Diego didn’t answer, but the typing never resumed.

Sharp pain woke Killian the next morning. He groaned as he turned over, realizing he’d shifted onto his sprained shoulder in his sleep.

As he opened his eyes, he jerked back. Diego stood over him, bent down so he looked straight into his face.

“What are you doing?” Killian breathed through the pain.

Diego straightened. “You…l-looked like you were in pain.”

“I was, but that doesn’t explain why you were standing over me.” This dude was weird.

Diego removed his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. “I… You were in pain.” He cocked his head to the side as if that was reason enough to act like a creeper.

Sure, Killian might have woken up groaning, but he must have missed the part where he became friends with Diego. It wasn’t that he disliked the guy, but Diego had never made any effort, and Killian saw Defiance Academy as only a means to an end. He had little desire to get to know the privileged kids like Diego who had a career set up for them at their family companies before they were even born.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Diego went to the freezer and retrieved an ice pack. Holding it out to Killian, he didn’t say a word.

Killian struggled out of his T-shirt and unwound the compression bandage before placing the ice pack directly on his skin.

All the doctor told him to do was rest and ice. He said if he did enough of both, Killian would probably be ready to go by their next game in three weeks.

His phone rang from where he’d left it on the desk. Diego snatched it before he could. “Someone named Zoey is calling you. Is that your girlfriend?”

“No.” He took the phone and shut it off without answering. Zoey would only be checking up on him for his mom. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

No wonder his stomach growled. Reaching into the bin under his bed, he retrieved a protein bar. “Shouldn’t you be packed to go home?”

“Home?”

“Yeah, the place where people live when they’re not stuck in a shoebox room with another dude.”

“I’m not going home.” He sat in front of his computer, turning his attention away from Killian.

“What do you mean you’re not going home?” Killian got out of bed, realizing how sore his entire body was after that game.

Diego shrugged. “My father isn’t big on holidays, and I have things to accomplish here.”

He spoke more like a businessman than a teenager. The anger Killian was known for crept up, and he had to hold it back. His winter break wasn’t supposed to be spent sitting in a crowded room. The only thing he’d looked forward to was having space for the first time in months.

“You have things to accomplish?” Killian loomed over Diego’s shoulder.

Diego didn’t answer. He’d already disappeared into the lines of code streaking across the screen.

For a moment, Killian had forgotten about his shoulder, and all he wanted to do was convince Kenny to take practice shots on him so he too could lose himself.

But then the throbbing intensified. Gingerly pulling a shirt over his head, Killian walked to the door. “I’m going to the dining hall.”

Diego didn’t respond. Sometimes, Killian wondered if his roommate even lived in the real world.

2

Diego

“This is next-level disgusting.” Diego carefully placed the last pin correctly labeling the pig’s respiratory system. He needed AP biology on his college resume, but he questioned whether it was worth it. Honestly, he needed high marks on every possible science he could fit into his schedule, but dissecting a baby pig was the very last thing Diego Jackson ever wanted to do. It was inhumane, and he couldn’t help but wonder why someone hadn’t come up with a synthetic alternative. Anything would be better and much less gross than this pitiful creature.

“At least it’s not a cat.” His lab partner, Van, poked their pig with a sharp utensil, trying to locate each lobe of the lungs. “Last term, the junior class got cats. Can you imagine?”

“I saw them in the lab fridge. They really didn’t look like cute cuddly kittens.” Not that the pig was remotely cute either. “They were kind of terrifying. I didn’t open that fridge for the rest of the semester.”

“I get the importance of studying from the real thing,” Van said, squealing as a stream of formaldehyde splattered across her safety goggles. “But this is never going to be my idea of a good time.”

“Remember the frogs in ninth grade?” Diego scribbled his observations in their lab journal, labeling each of the respiratory parts without looking at his book or the pig. When it came to the sciences, Diego didn’t struggle like some students. It was in his blood.

“You tried to lead a protest against using real animals for high school dissection exercises.” Van shook her head with a smirk. “You didn’t get very far.”

“Hey, I’ve never been the leader type, but I got three students on my side. Four if we count you.”

“And two of those girls just didn’t want to touch the frogs.”

“I’m used to people not getting me now. I’ll keep my ‘save the world, save the animals’ ideas for my apps.”

“How’s the new one coming?” Van sorted their tools and started cleaning their lab station.

“It’s slow.” Diego sighed. “I’m tackling an enormous project all on my own, but it’ll be worth it if I can ever get it into beta testing.”

“I still don’t get why you don’t just ask your dad for help.”

“Dad’s more focused on saving the financial industry than the planet. He’s not going to be impressed with my little project.”

“You should talk to him about it while you’re home for the holidays. Tell him it’s a project for your STEM club and you just want to pick his brain.”

“I’m not going home.”

“What? Why? You can come home with me if your dad’s not going to be around.”

“It’s not that. I want to stay.”

“Why?” Van wrinkled her nose. “Why would anyone want to stay on campus for Christmas? It’s not like this is Hogwarts.”

“It’s three whole weeks of uninterrupted work. I wouldn’t give that opportunity up for anything. If I go home, Dad’s going to feel like we have to spend time together or go on some lame vacation. Here, I can just work without anyone bothering me.”

“You have strange priorities, my friend.”

“Vanessa, you can pack up for the day. You guys are done,” Mrs. Cone said. “Good job, both of you. I know this isn’t your thing. Diego, the headmistress would like to see you before your next class. You can head out early.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Cone.” Diego grabbed his things and headed to Headmistress Jones’ office. He was hoping she had good news for him.

“Diego,” Mr. Wilson, the school secretary, greeted him as he entered the administrative office. “The headmistress is waiting for you.”

“Thank you.” Diego shouldered his way into Georgina Jones’ office, dropping his bag at the entry.

“Diego, have a seat.” She stood on top of her desk on her bare tiptoes, changing the light bulbs in the overhead fixture.

“You know you could just call maintenance for that.” Diego ignored her offer and crossed the room to help her, knowing she’d refuse.

“I’m picky about my bulbs. I need soft light, or it gives me a headache. There.” She finished screwing in the last bulb. “Well, if you aren’t going to sit, come, make yourself useful.” She gestured for him to stand next to her desk. She grabbed his shoulder and stepped down onto her chair and back on the floor where she slid her feet into her high heels. She still barely came up to Diego’s shoulder.

“How’s the app coming?”

Diego flopped into the chair opposite her desk. “It’s coming. It’s just slow.”

“You can write code in your sleep. What’s slowing you down?”

“The visual stuff.” He scratched the back of his head. “I don’t have the patience for it. I’m more into organizing and structuring the app than making it look nice. I’ll have to do it eventually, but right now, I’m avoiding it.”

“Well, I might have a solution for that.” She sat behind her desk, shuffling through her files. “Ah, here it is. Since you’re staying on campus for the holidays, I had a genius thought to pair you with a mentor or sorts.”

“A mentor? Here in Riverpass?” Diego just managed to hold back his snort, covering it with a cough.

“Don’t be such a snob, Diego. Just because our school happens to be in a sleepy little town doesn’t mean greatness can’t come from outside these walls. There’s a graduate from Twin Rivers High who’s now a student at MIT.”

Diego leaned closer. “MIT? Who is this guy?”

“She is the local girl who created the hugely successful app, No Body Shame.”

Even Diego had heard about the local girl’s success with the body positive app she’d created to give the students of Twin Rivers High a place to talk about all kinds of issues anonymously. Now, No BS was a huge hit in schools nationwide.

“Peyton Callahan is a brilliant coder with a talent for the visual components you struggle with. She’s in Twin Rivers for the holidays and has agreed to mentor you for the rest of the year. You can get acquainted while she’s home, and if it’s a good fit, you can continue to work with her for as long as it’s mutually beneficial.”

“And she’s willing?” Diego sat on the edge of his seat. Having an MIT student as a mentor was the best Christmas present he could ask for.

“I’ve given her a pass to access the campus over the break. She’ll meet you this afternoon at the coffee shop in the quad. I know you’re not exactly a people person, but Peyton might be the nicest person I’ve ever talked to.”

“I’ll make it work, Mrs. Jones. Thank you for setting this up.”

“Just do me one favor, Diego.” She leaned over her desk.

“Sure, anything, Mrs. Jones.”

“Try to have some fun over break. I know you find great joy in your work, but don’t forget to live a little too.”

“Soy milk vanilla latte with an extra shot.” Diego ordered his regular coffee. “And please use my cup.” He handed over his stainless-steel travel mug—complete with an annoyed look from the barista—and mentally calculated the points that would earn him once the app was in beta.

Diego turned to scan the crowd at the coffee shop. He spotted Peyton sporting an MIT sweatshirt, looking out of place among the more fashionable Defiance Academy girls. He liked her already.

Grabbing his coffee, he went to join her. He wasn’t exactly nervous with new people. He just wasn’t good at small talk, and most people either thought he was weird or rude.

“Peyton?” He moved to sit opposite her.

“Diego, it’s so nice to meet you,” she gushed.

Ah, crap, she’s a talker.

“Your headmistress has told me so much about you and your app. I designed my first app when I was in high school, and it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever tried to do. It didn’t really start to come together until I realized there was only so far I could take it on my own. Once I knew I didn’t have the skill set to see it through to the end, it became more about what No BS needed and less about whether or not I did all the things or someone else did some of the things.”

Peyton beamed a beautiful, happy, energetic smile at him, and Diego wondered what it was like to be friends with someone like her. Also, she looked at him like it was his turn to talk.

“Oh, right.” Diego fidgeted in his chair and glanced at his phone. He was better through email and text messages. “I guess that’s where I am now with my app. I’m still making progress, but it’s slow.”

“What’s it called?” Peyton leaned across the table, sipping her latte.

“No idea. I can’t seem to land on a name I like.”

“Tell me about it. Mrs. Jones told me a little, but I want to hear more about your vision and what needs to happen to get it there.”

“It’s a habit trainer disguised as an adventure game. Players do small things to help the environment, and they earn diamonds to purchase key components to the game, which they’ll need to level up. There are even real-world prizes they can win based on the player’s overall points. The more beneficial an act is to the environment, the more diamonds they’ll earn.”

“I love it.” Peyton grinned. “I would totally play that game. So, what kinds of tasks do players need to do?”

“Little things like opting to have your morning latte in a reusable cup rather than a disposable one. Switching from plastic straws to stainless steel. Those kinds of tasks are worth ten to twenty-five diamonds and can add up over time when done daily. Bigger tasks like participating in a community cleanup or a recycling drive are worth tons of diamonds. Making real donations to climate change studies can earn a player huge in game rewards.”

“How do gamers prove they’ve actually done these tasks?”

“I’m working on a system that involves checking in on Facebook and uploading a selfie of gamers performing a task.”

“Wow, that’s impressive. Is it working?”

“Sort of.” Diego smiled. “I still have some bugs to work out before it will be ready to beta test.”

“What are the most challenging parts for you?” Peyton sat back, crossing her arms over her chest.

“The pretty stuff.” Diego shrugged. “I have the game set up with a rudimentary layout while I finish mapping out the levels of gameplay, but it’s not cute.”

“I can help you with that. I can meet with you several times over the holidays to work out a basic visual plan, and then we can keep working on it after I head back to school. We can have this thing in beta before spring break.”

“That would be amazing, Peyton. But are you sure? MIT is no joke. I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

Peyton waved his concerns away. “I’m happy to mentor you and help with the visual stuff. That’s the easy part for me, and it’s the part I enjoy the most. Really, it’ll be like a break.”

“Sounds incredible. Thank you so much.” Diego didn’t really know how to respond to such kindness. Peyton wouldn’t really get anything out of this arrangement.

“Now, the important question.” Peyton eyed him with a serious look. “MIT or CalTech?”

Diego laughed. “MIT all the way, and not just because it’s not California.”

“Good answer. I’m looking forward to working with you, Diego.”

“When do you have time to meet again?”

“Thursday, and I have homework for you.” She slid a sheet of paper across the table.